The Dove
by Erika
Summary: When ObiWan enters an art contest, he's afraid to tell QuiGon because he thinks that his Master will think it's a waste of time. However, when ObiWan is forced to tell QuiGon, he is very surprised by his reaction.


**_Title_****:** The Dove

**_Author_****:** Erika

**_Rating_****:** PG

**_Summary_****:** When Obi-Wan enters an art contest, he's afraid to tell Qui-Gon because he thinks that his Master will think it's a waste of time. However, it seems that fate (me!) has other plans and when Obi-Wan is forced to tell Qui-Gon, he is very surprised by his reaction.

**_Time Frame_****:** Obi-Wan is 15

**_Spoilers_****:** For JA 

**_Category_****:** H/C, non-slash, POV, angst, slightly ridiculous character behavior (Obi acts rather comical here) 

**_Disclaimers_****:** The Star Wars universe and all of its characters belong to George Lucas, I'm only borrowing them to have a little fun and I promise to return them unharmed (well, at least mostly unharmed). I'm making no money off of this and this is written for entertainment purposes only. Any characters that are not recognizable as being part of the SW universe belong to me, but you guys probably figured that out, right?

**_Feedback_****:** Both positive feedback and _constructive_ criticism are greatly appreciated and will be cherished! (firedrake88@yahoo.com)

**_Archive_****:** Jedi Apprentice, Early Years, Wolfie's Den, JAFD, The Guardians of Peace, The Temple Library, Telly, and anyone who has any of my other stories. Anyone else who wants this, please ask and send me a link to your site so that I can check it out. =D

Things enclosed in / / 's are / _memories /_

The Dove

**Obi-Wan:**

"Hello Obi-Wan!" Corelio called out to me from where he stood at the entrance to the Temple, "how are you?" 

Corelio and I had been good friends ever since my fifth birthday. When taken from their parents to be trained as Jedi, young initiates are allowed to see their parents once every few months – to make the transition easier to deal with for both the children and their family. I had been crying because I had just seen my mother for the last time and Corelio found me, alone in one of the gardens. Using his humor and forever-happy mood, he quickly cheered me up. As a little boy I had liked Corelio because he was always smiled and was happy. Now, although I still admired those traits, it was his good heart and honest desire to help people that gave him my respect and friendship.

He was nearly thirty years old and had worked as a Temple guard ever since his thirteenth birthday when he realized he wasn't going to be chosen as a Padawan. My friend was rather short, coming up to my shoulder, and had thick black hair that he always wore down. His sparkling eyes were large, slightly round, and a brown that he claimed, 'melted the girls on sight'

I smiled, "Corelio," I greeted as I approached him, "I'm fine, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm having a great day! The sun is shinning, the sky is blue, it looks like someone painted the little dabs of clouds that smear the horizon, and the birds are chirping!" he answered, laughing at himself.

I grinned and shook my head, "Corelio," I used my most critical and 'Masterly' sounding voice, "We're on Coruscant; we can't see the sky _or_ the clouds, if there even are any, and there _aren't_ any birds."

Corelio gestured, dismissing my comment with a sarcastic, "Details, details, details."

"Yes," I agreed, "minor details."

My friend swatted me on the back, "So, where are you coming from?"

"I just dropped off some of my sketches at an art contest that one of the schools is holding. I talked to the director and convinced him to let me participate even though I don't go to school."

"Oh," he exclaimed dramatically, "that sounds like fun. What'd you draw?"

"I submitted three sketches," I explained patiently, "one is of one of the meditation gardens, one is of the Temple itself, and the last one…is Qui-Gon."

Corelio's shaggy eyebrows shot up instantly, "Oh, tell me about the one you drew of Qui-Gon."

I allowed myself a small smile. I knew he would ask me about that one. "Well…" I began slowly, closing my eyes to imagine the image more clearly, "Qui-Gon is standing on a beach but it's not a calm day, it's very stormy. He's overlooking the turbulent waters that smash against the sand and rocks and the wind is blowing so strongly that his hair is completely lifted off his back. Gusts of sand are being sent flying up through the cold air. In his arms, he holds a small bird, a dove, which he's protecting from the harsh whether. Despite the storm, Qui-Gon is completely calm, concerned only with saving the life of the bird that fell from the sky due to the wicked winds. The bird, although wild, is peaceful in Qui-Gon's hands, knowing that my Master will protect him from an otherwise certain death at the icy clutches of the angry sea."

I opened my eyes, expecting Corelio to make some good-humored joke and was surprised to see a gentle smile covering his lips. When he spoke, his voice was soft and serious, "It sounds very beautiful and meaningful, Obi-Wan," he said, "I am sure that you spent a lot of time on it."

I ducked my head and couldn't help the flush that covered my cheeks, "Thank you, Corelio. When I get it back from the school, I'll show it to you." It had taken me nearly a week to complete the drawing. I had worked on it every night for six days. It was the best drawing I had ever done.

When I first started drawing it I had intended to give it to Qui-Gon, to show him that I saw his as my protector until I became a knight, but then I had lost my nerve and decided to turn it into the art contest instead. 

My friend nodded, "Please do, I'm sure that Qui-Gon must be very proud and honored."

A flash of sadness stabbed at my heart. Qui-Gon didn't know that I had entered the art contest – he didn't even know I liked to draw. As much as I wanted to open myself up to Qui-Gon, to tell him everything about me, my Master was so withdrawn and so cold. We didn't spend any real time together. We trained together, went on missions together, and meditated together, but we never just spent time together for the sake of spending time together.

One of the reasons I hadn't given him the drawing was because I was afraid of how he would react to the revelation that drawing was a passion to me and that I spent every free minute doing it.

I gazed past my friend, focusing on nothing in particular. Qui-Gon and I were much closer than we had ever been before. Finally, after almost two years as Master and Padawan, we were becoming more than just teacher and student, more than just companions, we were becoming friends. Instead of talking about missions when we ate together, we talked about other things that were of interest to us. 

Recently, over lunch, my Master had recommended me a book he had just read and we proceeded to talk about our favorite authors. It was nice to talk to Qui-Gon about something other than training, but there was still something missing. We only talked like that when we were eating, never at any other time. It was the only time we truly _talked_. As soon as we finished eating and washing the dishes, Qui-Gon would return to his normal withdrawn self.

My Master was so strict and demanding. We spent hours training everyday and Qui-Gon would never let me move on until I had completed the assigned lesson or exercise to the best of my abilities. Sometimes he ran me so hard that I barely had the energy to stumble back to our quarters and clean up. Once, after a particularly grueling 'saber exercise that had lasted almost three hours, Qui-Gon had actually _carried_ me home. 

I had never told my Master of my artistic side because I didn't think that he'd care, or worse, that he'd think it was frivolous and a waste of time. I didn't want to disappoint him by saying that all those nights when he thought I was studying, I was actually drawing. I admired my Master greatly and wanted nothing more than to be close to him, but he was so distant that I feared we would never truly become friends. Sometimes it seemed that all Qui-Gon cared about was my training. He wouldn't appreciate my wasting time on something not crucial to my becoming a Jedi. He wouldn't understand and I couldn't stand to disappoint him.

"You haven't told him, have you?" Corelio surmised after an uncomfortable silence passed between us.

I shook my head very slowly, abashed. "No, I haven't," my voice was so soft that I could barely hear it and was surprised that Corelio could understand me. "He wouldn't understand. He would say I was wasting time by drawing instead of studying or meditating."

"How do you know?" he asked steadily, bringing my eyes back to his face with the severity of his tone.

I met his gaze squarely, "You don't know Qui-Gon. He's obsessed with training, lessons, and meditation. He wouldn't want me to waste my time on something that doesn't help my training."

Corelio was pensively silent for a few long moments before he spoke again. "Does Qui-Gon care for you, Obi-Wan?"

"Of course he does!" I exclaimed before I even finished processing what my friend had asked, "He cares for me, as I do him," I added, a little more calmly. I couldn't really explain it but for some reason the question bothered me. Was he suggesting that my Master didn't? I knew he did. He worried for me when I wasn't feeling well, and even when I was. On dangerous missions he always tried to protect me while still giving me increasing freedom. He would never forgive himself if something happened to me. Despite his cold distance, I knew that he _did_ care for my wellbeing.

"How do you know?" Corelio asked seriously, finding and holding my eyes in the intensity of his gaze.

I had been a Jedi long enough to recognize a question meant to teach me a lesson when I heard one. Corelio was trying to show me something with this question. If only I knew _what_ he wanted to teach me, then I'd know how to answer. 

"What do you mean?" I asked instead.

"Has he ever told you?"

"No, he doesn't have to," I reflected pensively, "I can see it in his eyes and I can feel it when he rests his hand on my shoulder. When I do something well I don't need for him to tell me I did a good job. I can tell that he's proud by the way his eyes shine and by the way he squeezes my shoulder. It's the way Qui-Gon is. He's not open with his praise."

I smiled softly, remembering back to when I had won last years 'saber tournament. Although anyone over the age of thirteen could enter, usually no one under the age of eighteen ever won. There were three separate tournaments: one for the Padawans, one for the Knights, and one for the Masters. Due to the difference in the skill level between a junior Padawan and a senior Padawan, it was very difficult for a younger Padawan to win. At the age of fourteen, I was the youngest Padawan to ever win the tournament. 

I had been so proud; so had my friends. I had even managed to impress Mace Windu. As he handed me my trophy he had told me that I had come along way since the days of my probation and that I did honor to my training. The junior Padawans at the Temple who had witnessed my victory had thrown me a little celebration and I hadn't seen my Master until late that night when I finally came home. I hadn't expected him to say anything, he never did. As soon as I entered our quarters he asked me to sit down with him on the couch. Instead of speaking he simply put his hand on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eye. I could see it all in his deep blue eyes. I could see his pride and his caring. We sat like that for almost five minutes without speaking. It was one of my fondest memories of Qui-Gon…

"Obi-Wan?" Corelio prompted and I instantly knew that he had said something that I had been too distracted to hear.

"Hmm?"

My friend smiled, "Honestly, Obi-Wan I don't know how you've made it this far in your training if you can't pay attention when someone's talking to you!"

I rolled my eyes. "What did you say, Corelio?"

Corelio's face turned serious once more, "I asked you how you know that Qui-Gon wouldn't approve of your drawing."

I frowned, "I already told you that–"

"Yes, yes, you already told me that he wouldn't want you to waste your time. I'm asking how you know he'd think it's a waste of time."

"We never do anything that's not directly related to my training. He focuses solely on my training _all_ the time. He thinks I spend all that time studying."

Corelio shook his head. I obviously had missed something in what he was trying to show me. "You say that you know he cares for you because of what you see in his eyes and the way he squeezes your shoulder, so what do you see that tells you he wouldn't like your drawing? Does he not like art? Does he give you the impression that you can't have a life outside of being a Jedi? What? So far what you've told me is what you _think_ he thinks. What do you _know_?"

I stared at him helplessly. He was right, I didn't _know_. I just thought. But I was almost sure! Qui-Gon was so strict and he never did anything just to have fun. Everything had a purpose, everything had a reason, everything was a lesson. "I…I don't know what you want me to say."

"You're afraid," Corelio stated simply, "you're just afraid that he'll be disappointed in you. You don't _know_ anything. You have to tell him, Obi-Wan, or else you'll never know. I'll bet that he doesn't react the way you think he will. Remember, he _cares_ for you, and if he cares for you, he'll understand how much you love to draw."

A heavy sigh parted my lips momentarily, frustration taking its toll. Corelio was right again. I _was_ afraid. I didn't want to disappoint Qui-Gon, I hated to disappoint my Master. I had to tell Qui-Gon. The only question was…how?

One week later:

I groaned loudly in frustration and buried my face in my pillow. Yesterday's training exercises had been particularly tiring and I hadn't gotten to sleep until after one in the morning. Force, who knew that such a little thing would end up being such a big problem! Why couldn't I just tell him? I had tried to, several times, but when the time actually came to spit it out, I choked. Why was I so afraid? Why was something that should, by all rights be easy, so hard? Force, I was thinking about it so often that my concentration was slipping. He hadn't said anything, but I knew that Qui-Gon was concerned with my recent behavior. Of course, he had every reason to be concerned. I had tried to tell him so many times…

_/ "__Master?" I called softly as I emerged from the 'fresher, almost hoping that Qui-Gon wouldn't hear me._

_ Apparently, the Force was not on my side. Qui-Gon was in the common room, reading a book. "Yes, Obi-Wan?" he asked, smiling softly._

_ I stood, frozen in the doorway of the 'fresher. Force, why had I said anything at all? I should have just gone to my room; I had no idea what to say. It wasn't something that I could easily drop into conversation. 'Hello, Master, how are you? I'm fine, thank you. What exercises are you planning for tomorrow? By the way, I've been drawing sketches every night for the last four years, sorry that I didn't tell you. Would you like some tea?'_

_ "Padawan?" Qui-Gon's voice brought me back from the clouds. "Are you all right?" He sounded worried. I knew it was wrong to like the fact that I could worry him, but it made me feel cared for. _

_ I shook my head, "I'm sorry, Master. I…I'd like to talk to you."_

_ Qui-Gon nodded and set aside his book, motioning for me to come sit next to him. "Come, Obi-Wan," he encouraged, sensing my nervousness._

_ I mutely did as he asked. For as nervous as I had been feeling before, my unease practically doubled when I found myself at his side, staring at his expectant eyes. He was waiting for me to say something. "I-I have something to tell you." Force! At this rate we'd still be here next year!_

_ A gentle hand squeezed my shoulder reassuringly, "Tell me then," he said very softly, sending me waves of comfort through our bond._

_ "I…" I wanted to scream at myself! Why couldn't I just say it? It wasn't like I was confessing to being a drug dealer, or stealing, or lying. I was just going to tell him that I liked to draw and spend hours doing it every night that I had time. What was so bad about that?_

_ What would Qui-Gon say when I told him? Would he get angry that I hadn't told him before? Be disappointed that I was wasting my time instead of studying, like he thought I was? What would he say? What would he do?_

_ "I-I was wondering if you'd give me a few hours off sometime this week…" Force, I had done it again! Why couldn't I just open my mouth and *say* it? This wasn't anything bad; it was just art, for crying out loud! My mind reeled, trying to come up with a reason I'd want three hours off. Why had I said that? "Bant is having some trouble with a certain 'saber exercise and I'd like to help her." I suppressed a sigh. Both things were true but I felt so foolish for being this nervous to tell him something._

_ Qui-Gon eyed me for a long time before he spoke. He knew that I hadn't wanted to ask him that but he didn't look disappointed or annoyed, he just seemed curious and worried. "It is very good of you to want to help her," he said softly, apparently deciding not to push me, "You may have as much time as you need."_

_ I smiled tentatively, "Thank you, Master." /_

I groaned again, remembering my failed attempt to tell Qui-Gon about my sketches. With the way I was worrying about this one would think I was about to confess that I had turned to the darkside, not that I liked to draw!

I glanced at the time. It was seven in the morning. I had to get up soon or Qui-Gon would come in and get me. Wonderful. Yet another day of trying to work up the courage to tell him I liked to _draw_.

When I entered the common room I was too deep in thought to notice my Master waiting for me. What was the worst that Qui-Gon would do? Forbid me from drawing? Of course not. This wasn't a big deal. Why was I worrying so much about this? Why was I so concerned with disappointing Qui-Gon? Because I cared for him, respected him, and wanted his approval more than just about anything else.

"Obi-Wan?" my heart leapt up into my throat and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard my Master's voice.

I looked up, abashed, to see Qui-Gon standing in front of the couch, gazing at me worriedly.

"I'm sorry, Master," I stammered, "I…I was just thinking, that's all."

My Master stared at me silently for a long while before nodding and gesturing to the small table in front of the couch. On the table I noted a medium-sized package addressed to me. "When did it come?" I asked, moving to pick it up.

Qui-Gon took the package off the counter and handed it to me. "This morning."

"Thank you," I took the package and looked at the address. It was from the school that I had submitted my work at. Terrific. How would I explain this to Qui-Gon? 

"It's from a school," my ever-observant Master said pointedly, obviously asking for an explanation without actually asking.

I nodded, "Yes," I agreed, holding the package tightly between trembling hands.

I could feel Qui-Gon's amusement, "Aren't you going to open it?" 

"Of course!" I exclaimed a little too quickly and immediately tore the seal off the large envelope. Inside I saw what I recognized as my drawing paper, and a datapad. I pulled out the data pad and saw that the director had keyed me a message.

Padawan Kenobi:

You are a very talented young man and your drawings are very expressive. I am sure you will be pleased to know that your drawing entitled 'The Dove' has won first prize in our contest. As you know, the winner of the contest will receive whatever art supplies he wishes. Please contact me and tell me exactly what it is that you want. Do not be ashamed – ask for anything you want and I'll be sure to send it to you. Your work is very meaningful and I hope to see more from you.

Director Velmore

I couldn't contain the smile that claimed my lips nor the rush of pride I felt. I had won! My drawing of Qui-Gon and the dove had won! I had never entered a contest before. It felt good to have my work recognized but what pleased me the most was that my drawing of _Qui_-_Gon_ had won. I had spent so much time on it, trying to convey a wealth of emotions into it. I wanted someone to be able to tell, just by looking at it, how kind and caring Qui-Gon was. How calm and serene. I wanted them to realize that he'd risk his like for anything – even a bird. I had put my heart and soul into that drawing.

Without thinking about the fact that Qui-Gon was standing less than three feet away from me, I took out my prized drawing to look at it again. It was just as I remembered; the harsh ocean waves, the bitter cold winds, the howling storm, and Qui-Gon standing calmly amidst it all, protecting the dove from certain death. 

A soft, barely-there noise from in front of me brought me back to reality. I looked up just in time to see Qui-Gon come to stand next to me and take the drawing from my suddenly trembling fingers.

"What is this Pada–" Qui-Gon's words died on his lips as he studied the drawing, eyes coming to rest on the bottom right hand corner, where I had signed my name.

I resisted the urge to close my eyes and held my breath, waiting for Qui-Gon's reaction. The few silent minutes that passed seemed to last several eternities and I found myself tentatively studying my Master's face, carefully watching his reaction.

At first his expression was all but unreadable, a tight mask that protected him from the outside world, but as I watched it began change. The emotion that I could read in his downcast eyes was surprise. Surprise at what? My mind demanded to know. Surprise that I hadn't told him? Surprise that I had drawn him? Then, slowly, his face softened and a small smile covered his lips. I noted, shaken, that his eyes were bright and that his hands were shaking slightly.

Finally, Qui-Gon looked up. His eyes met mine and I stifled a gasp. In his gaze I could read his amazement and his…joy. Joy? I breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't disappointed, he was pleased. A tremendous weight was suddenly lifted from my shoulders, leaving me a feeling of complete foolishness that I had ever been so concerned about his reaction.

"Obi-Wan," his voice was thick and almost breaking, "I don't know what to say…it's beautiful. I am honored, my Padawan, more than honored…" his voice trailed off and he seemed to be at a loss for words.

I smiled shakily. Of all the reactions I had imagined, this one hadn't even crossed my mind. He honored that I had drawn him and rendered speechless. A wave of joy cascaded through my veins and a lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it down and struggled to find something to say. "That's the way…I see you," I stammered shyly, ducking my head as a flush colored my cheeks, "y-you're my protector…you try to protect everything…even pathetic life forms…"

I felt Qui-Gon gently take hold of my chin. At first I resisted but my Master was persistent and I had no choice but to let him tilt my head up until our eyes met. His eyes were full of something I'd never seen in them before – tender love. I smiled, I couldn't help it. Qui-Gon cared for me that much? I had always wanted this but I had never thought to have it – to have Qui-Gon's love which before had been reserved for his close friends, like Tahl. Joy rippled through me. Qui-Gon not only cared for me, he _loved_ me! I forced myself to blink back the tears that threatened to form. 

"Why…why did you draw it?"

I wanted to look away but my Master's hand still held my chin and it wouldn't let me. "I…I drew it…for you, Master…I just…couldn't give it to you so I turned it into a contest at school. It…won first place…Master." My words were hopeful and almost pleading. I wanted him to be proud of me… I knew he was proud of my skills as a Jedi, but I wanted him to be proud of my drawings – my passion.

"I am touched, my Padawan," he said, affectionately smoothing over the cleft in my chin. "This is more than I deserve from you… Do you draw a lot, Obi-Wan?"

I smiled. My Master actually wanted to know about my work! I could feel it! He wanted to know about my drawings! "Y-yes, Master, every night."

"Show me?" he asked. My Master, using his rank, could have ordered me to show him, but he was _asking_. Asking and begging me to say yes. He wanted to see more! My heart soared and flew away on the wings of joy. Who knew that such a simple thing could bring me so much happiness?

"I would love to," I said, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it gently.

THE END


End file.
